


Phone Call

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Future, Points of View, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-29
Updated: 2007-09-29
Packaged: 2018-12-26 18:37:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12064734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: The phone call shared just before Brian rushes to New York to be with Justin.It's up to you how that part happens :)





	Phone Call

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Brian POV 

The phone is ringing the minute I enter the loft, so I rush over to it hoping the person on the other end is who I predict it to be. I'm not disappointed, in that respect. I am disappointed however because I hear him trying to stifle sobs strangled in his throat, his voice cracking in a desperate attempt to hide his weeping. 

"What's happened?" I ask, my chest constricting in worry.  

"Nothing...why would anything be wrong?" 

"You're crying..."

"I'm not some stupid little faggot, I’m fine." He sniffs, and his voice goes gooey as he's wiping his nose. (I can't believe I know when he's doing things like that.)

"Justin..." I pause, trying to hide my worry. (God...all this hiding. Why can't we just be honest with each other?) 

He chuckles softly. 

"I miss you, you stupid twat. I'm just a little down is all...and I know we only saw each other a couple of weeks ago, and we're going to see each other over Christmas, but...well..." 

I wait patiently. 

"I just...needed to hear your voice." 

I feel my eyes start to sting.  

"I feel like, if you told me to come home now I would in a second. I'm just so sick and tired of you not being here. It's been nearly 2 years and...god. I'm sorry."

We sit in silence for a while. I rack my brains trying to think what to reply, but nothing seems to come. I opt for the obvious, but he starts to speak when I do. 

"I miss you t-" 

"Do you-"

He chuckles again. 

"I was going to ask if you missed me. Shit Brian, we're starting to say what the each other is thinking. You are so screwed."  

I really am. 

We laugh a little, then there is another silence. There are always comfortable silences like this whenever we talk over the phone, where we just walk around the place and go about our business, just satisfied that we're kind of sharing the experiences. I sit at my desk comforted by his soft breathing.

"Do you want me to come home?" he says suddenly.

My breath catches and my heart beats faster.  _YES YOU STUPID TWAT! OF COURSE I WANT YOU TO COME HOME! COME HOME!_

I refrain from speaking the selfish truth yet again. 

"I want you to do what _you_ want to do," comes my sturdy and worn reply. He sighs in slight frustration. 

His sniffles cease and he replies with a strong tone, but it's thick and wet with tears. 

"You know what I want Brian? I want you to come to New York and live with me. I want you to get an office in Madison Avenue like you always dreamed of, but instead of working for a big-shot you'll be your own boss, and you'll piss all over the competition here. I want us to get a place together, and I mean _together_ , you're money and my money combined. I want to marry you...not now, but eventually, when you've experienced all the New York ass you want..." 

I make to say something in my dumb struck state, but he continues on like a freight train.

"...I want to wake up with you every morning. You know how much I’ve missed our morning fucks?" 

I chuckle, feeling a tear trickle down my cheek. 

"I miss walking you to work every morning when I went to PIFA. I miss cooking for you. I miss our shower fucks...I miss watching the TV with you...I miss us eating take-out on the floor...I miss...I miss that dip in your chin, the one thing you hate about your body and I adore. I miss your crooked tooth that makes your smile so damn cute. I miss how your hair is always messed up in the morning, I miss watching you in the mirror brushing your teeth. I miss painting you...I miss sketching you. I miss going out to dinner with you...I miss clubbing with you. I miss going into the backroom with you and begging you to fuck my brains out. I miss watching you walk across the room in just your sweats looking sexy as hell. I miss fucking you...on the rare occasion you allow me to do it. I miss blowing you...I just miss you! I don't care how, but I want us to be together." 

I wipe my eyes, my heart beating so damn fast it sounds like a drum solo. I don't know what to say. I'm confused, elated, drained, miserable, happy, lonely...fuck! He's waiting, breathing heavily. I can sense his tension as he waits for my reply to the ridiculously romantic speech he just bestowed.   

"I can't... talk about this on the phone. I'm coming out there. I'll be there in a couple of hours." 

He sucks in a shaky breath, his voice quiet and nervous, the speech probably draining him a little. 

"Ok. I'll be here." I make to hang up, but I place the phone to my ear again, knowing he only hangs up when I do. 

"I love you Justin," I say, waiting for the inevitable pinch in my chest that doesn't come. 

"I love you too Brian."  

I click the hang up button, before dialing the number to book my flight.  


End file.
